


Preemptive Strike

by Yashitsu



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Caning, Corporal Punishment, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Non-Consensual Touching, Rape/Non-con Elements, Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:33:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26110453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yashitsu/pseuds/Yashitsu
Summary: Corporal punishment may be considered harsh and outdated, but Elias finds he quite likes the results it gives.Or, Jon and Elias' relationship throughout the seasons of The Magnus Archives, but with more caning.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 3
Kudos: 43
Collections: Jonelias Week 2020





	Preemptive Strike

**Author's Note:**

> Please respect my boundaries by not reading this fic if you are under 18.
> 
> For Jonelias Week 2020 day 1: Pre-Canon+HR Violations
> 
> Trans male anatomy is referred to as "folds" and "cock" in this chapter. No sex yet, but there will be noncon later.

Jon is terribly nervous as he makes his way up to Elias’ office. His hands fidget, wrapping the fingers of one hand around the other and squeezing too tightly, the slight pain failing to ground him. He doesn’t know what he’s done wrong, but he could tell Elias was not happy when he’d asked to see Jon. Jon thinks of his getting this job as a stroke of miraculous luck, and he is desperate to prove he deserves it. As he always does when he’s inside the Institute, Jon feels as if he is under scrutiny, as if something is aware of his every move.

The unsettling sensation of being watched only intensifies as Jon stands outside the door to Elias’ office. Jon can’t explain it, doesn’t want to think about what it might mean, but deep down in the pits of his very soul he is certain that Elias _knows_ about every single thing Jon has done wrong in his work thus far. Jon’s knock on the door sounds to him like the pounding of a gavel handing down a guilty verdict.

“Jon, right on time,” Elias says when he opens the door. He doesn’t sound angry, in fact, he still has the same little smile on his face that he always seems to have, as if he is perpetually satisfied by some unknown joy. Jon doesn’t trust it.

“Director Bouchard,” Jon says, slipping into the calming script of distant professionalism in his anxiety.

“I’ve told you, Jon, we can be on a first name basis here. Call me Elias.” Jon’s stomach drops Another mistake, then.

“Elias,” Jon corrects, perhaps too quickly. “Why did you want to see me today?” Elias gestures for Jon to step inside his office, closing the door behind them. It’s the same stately, imposing room Jon remembers it being. As always, the clock, situated behind Elias’ desk above a portrait of the Institute’s founder, dominates the space with its insistent ticking. It sounds somehow louder today, and Jon wonders for a moment if it isn’t counting down to some horrible event before brushing the thought aside. How dramatic. He may be about to be fired, but it can’t be worse than that.

“You remember the Hammond statement, yes?” Elias asks.

“Yes.” That was one of the first ones that had to go on tape. Jon vividly recalls his irritation at fiddling with his microphone settings before giving up and searching the Archives for a tape recorder.

“As I recall, you began to look into the history of the Lukas family after that statement.”

“Yes.” Jon says, suddenly angry with himself. The statement had been connected to that family, and he’d continued his research even after Elias had told him to stop. He’d simply been too curious to drop such an interesting lead, and Elias hadn’t explained _why_ he didn’t want Jon researching them.

“As you may have found out through your inquiries, the Lukases have been one of the Institute’s main financial supporters ever since its founding. They are very private people, and considering how generous they’ve been to us, it’s only fair that we treat them with a bit of... courtesy.”

“Even if they’re involved in what we research here?” Jon says without thinking.

“We can hardly continue our research without any money, Jon. I know it’s hard for you to resist asking questions. That inquisitive nature is one of the reasons I made you Head Archivist. In any job, you are inevitably going to make mistakes. That’s just fine, as long as you face them.” Elias gestures to the side, and Jon is startled to realize there’s a man sitting in a chair beside Elias’ desk. How had that escaped Jon’s notice until now?

“Oh,” Jon exclaims. “I’m sorry, I didn’t... Jonathan Sims, I’m the Head Archivist here.” The man smiles, but it looks rehearsed, a performance of what friendliness is supposed to look like, rather than an actual emotion. Jon is plenty familiar with that himself.

“Peter Lukas,” The man says cheerfully. Jon’s stomach sinks even further.

“Mr. Lukas,” Jon says, “I am so sorry for... intruding on your family.” Jon looks back to Elias. “You brought me here to apologize, I suppose.” Elias smiles pityingly.

“Yes, but Peter here is rather... old fashioned with the sort of apology he’d like.” Elias picks up a long, thin object from his desk. “Come here and place your hands on the desk, please.”

“What?” Jon asks, bewildered. Is that...? Surely Elias isn’t suggesting corporal punishment?

“I said to come here, Jon,” Elias says, sterner this time. Jon obeys, though his arms shake as he rests his hands on the desk, bending over it slightly. He doesn’t like how this position leaves him unable to see Peter, and it gets far worse when Elias steps behind him as well. Jon jumps at the touch of a hand on his hip.

“I’m just adjusting your posture, Jon,” Elias says calmly. Jon doesn’t know what to do except let Elias continue. Elias pulls his hips back a little, straightens his back, makes him bend a bit further. Soon enough, he’s satisfied, and the disconcerting warmth of Elias’ hands leaves Jon. Jon quickly decides it’s worse this way, not knowing where Elias is. Still, he doesn’t move from where Elias has placed him. Whatever this is, Jon can endure it for the sake of this job. Still, it’s killing him not knowing what’s about to happen. Just as he’s about to ask what Elias plans to do, Elias speaks again.

“Most consider caning a very outdated form of punishment, but the Lukas family still uses it often. Got the practice from the Royal Navy, isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” Peter says, sounding oddly fond. “They don’t do it in the Navy anymore, but it’s quite effective. It certainly kept me in line when I was a lad.”

“Elias, you can’t actually...” Jon trails off, horrified.

“Jon,” Elias says softly, placing a hand on Jon’s back as if to comfort him. “I know it’s embarrassing, but it will be over quickly. Maintaining a good relationship with the Lukas family is very important to the Institute.” The hand leaves Jon’s back, and when Elias next speaks, it’s directed at Peter. “We agreed on ten strokes, correct?” Peter hums affirmatively.

“Don’t go easy on him just because he’s one of yours,” Peter says. Elias chuckles.

“Of course not. You know I have high standards for my employees.” Jon tries to calm his breathing, nearing panic. He’s afraid, and he can see no way out of this but through it. Elias’ hand returns, gently stroking Jon’s back this time.

“It’s all right, Jon. You’ll take this wonderfully.” Jon shouldn’t be comforted by those words, but he is. He braces himself as Elias pulls away.

Jon nearly shouts when the first strike lands on his buttocks. The shock of it hits the hardest, but it also hurts. His trousers do little to shield him. Elias straightens Jon’s back again with a hand on his chest.

“Try to hold position, Jon,” Elias says. Jon does so, grateful for something to focus on besides the beating he’s receiving. He grits his teeth through two more strikes, the pain starting to build up. The fourth lands somewhere Elias already hit, and Jon whimpers. He balls his hands into fists on the fifth.

“Halfway there,” Elias says. Only halfway? Jon hopes against hope he can get through this without crying. He doesn’t want to look weak in front of Peter, or worse, in front of Elias. Jon has to voice his pain by strike seven. Elias is not being lenient. Each stroke of the cane is sharp and precise.

“Almost done,” Elias says after the eighth hit. Jon focuses on keeping his back straight, his entire body tense as a bowstring. He falters a little as strike nine lands, and collapses to his elbows after ten. Tears are welling in his eyes from the pain and mortification, but at least he’s not actually crying.

“There. Well done, Archivist,” Elias says, running his fingers through Jon’s hair. It feels good, and Jon needs something to feel good too much to care that it’s not the sort of touch he really _should_ be accepting from his boss. “You’re satisfied?” Elias asks. Jon almost thinks the question is for him until Peter answers.

“That should do. I don’t think he’ll be snooping around our business after that, not for a while at least. I know your kind is always on about one thing or another.”

“Yes,” Elias says, sounding irritated. “And I suppose you’re itching to get out of here. Any funerals to attend?”

“Not this week,” Peter says. Jon feels as if he’s missing a joke, but he’s too tired to really care. He aches, and he can tell it won’t be pleasant to sit down once he gets back to his office. Elias’ fingers are still carding through his hair, and part of Jon wants to get lost in that feeling, but it would be very unprofessional.

“I... I should get back to work,” Jon says, surprised at how sluggish his voice feels when he speaks. He stands up fully, realizing as he looks around the room that Peter is gone. He must have left while Jon was distracted.

“I’m glad we were able to resolve this issue. Thank you, Jon,” Elias says. That... doesn’t seem quite right to Jon, but he’s still a bit too dazed to challenge it. Instead he nods his head before quietly leaving Elias’ office.

However, Jon notices something very disconcerting on his way back downstairs. He stops at a bathroom to confirm his suspicions. Sure enough, when he pulls his pants down his cock is hard enough to peek out from between his folds, and there’s a wet spot on his briefs. He curses quietly. Of all the ways for his body to respond, it had to be this. Jon resolves to ignore his arousal and simply move on with his day. With his head beginning to clear, he is far too self conscious to wank in a bathroom stall at work. The pain he feels from sitting down only makes the problem worse, so he remains standing for the last few hours of his workday and snaps at Martin when he asks how his meeting with Elias went.

By the time Jon gets back to his flat, his arousal has thankfully faded. He very deliberately does not think about the events of the day as he lies in bed, lest he be tempted to do something that would break down his professional boundaries even further. He only did what he needed to do for his job, there’s nothing more to it than that. He should be moving past this. There should never be any reason for this to happen again. As he drifts off to sleep, Jon does his best not to think about the warmth of Elias’ hands, tries not to think of his voice, of _well done, Archivist_. He almost succeeds.


End file.
